The Esoteric World of London Tipton
by James Doyle
Summary: Experimental. After a viewer of London's web show gives Cody some insight into London's personality, Cody must explain his amateur diagnosis to London.
1. Chapter 1

Standard disclaimer: If you saw it on TV, it belongs to Disney

Standard disclaimer: If you saw it on TV, it belongs to Disney. Otherwise, it's mine.

_A/N: Taking a break from _Maddie of the Future _to write an experimental fic to explore a hypothesis of mine about London. Please hold your comments until you've read the entire chapter._

_A/N: Yet another story that isn't intended to fit with the _Suite Life on Deck _canon._

**The Esoteric World of London Tipton**

**By**

**James Doyle**

London Tipton answered the knocking at her door to find Cody Martin, on time, as usual, for their production meeting for _Yay Me! Starring London Tipton. _

"Hey Cody," greeted London. "Have a seat, I have something to show you."

London led Cody over to the sofa, where upon the coffee table sat a number of trays with precious stones. Cody had seen London's collection before, but it seemed to have grown considerably since he had last seen it.

"That's quite a collection you have," commented Cody.

"Do you like it?" asked London. Cody nodded. London clapped her hands.

"I was thinking," continued London, "that we could do a show on precious stones, and which ones look good with which outfits."

Cody nodded in approval. "I think a show about gemology would be awesome."

"Eww!" recoiled London. "I thought you were done with that whole germ project. As I recall, you almost had the hotel shut down."

"No, no," Cody quickly replied. "Not germology, gemology: The study of precious stones."

"Oh," said London, who then continued with her discussion. "This one's called amethyst. "It has a vicious luster…"

"I think you mean 'vitreous,'" interrupted Cody.

"Yeah, what you said. It's a six-sided prism in a six-sided pyramid. It looks good with anything in purple, which unfortunately does not look good on people with my skin tone."

As the afternoon went on, Cody and London discussed several more precious stones and outfits. They agreed upon a format where Cody would introduce the stones and give a brief scientific overview, and London would discuss how to accessorize them.

After the show, Cody and London looked over the massive amount of viewer comments that had poured in during the show. Most interestingly, they received invitations to join a number of gemological and mineralogical discussion groups. The last message that London examined disturbed her:

_London:_

_I see you found your special interest, finally. I always knew you were one of us._

_ASDMike1985_

"What does he mean by 'one of us?'" asked London.

"I don't know," said Cody. "But I'll find out."

Later that evening, Cody returned to his suite and began his search for ASDMike1985. It didn't take long; Mike frequented a number of blogs, message boards, and chatrooms. Astonishingly, almost all of them shared a common theme: Autism.

Cody back away from the keyboard and contemplated for a moment. Did this Mike fellow really think London was autistic? Why would he think that? Was he just trying to get some celebrity cred for his pet cause? Or did he really see something in London that nobody else did?

Cody spent most of the night researching autism on the web and comparing it to his experiences with London. Piece by piece, a picture came together in Cody's mind that bore an unmistakable resemblance to London Tipton.

Carey came home late from a show, to find Cody still working.

"Cody," admonished Carey. "It's late. You should be in bed."

"I can't sleep, mom," argued Cody. "I've been thinking a lot about London."

Carey smiled and put her arms around her son. "Cody, you don't have to be ashamed. It's okay to have these kinds of feelings about her."

"No, it's not that," replied Cody. _Okay, maybe it is, but that's beside the point_. "Have you ever heard of Asperger's Syndrome?"

Carey nodded. "I don't know much about it, other than it's a form of autism. You don't think…London?"

"Yeah," said Cody. "I'm pretty certain that London has it."

"Oh my gosh!" exclaimed Carey. "Are you sure?"

Cody showed his mother the notes he'd collected (complete with APA-style citations) on London and autism.

"Wow," said Carey. "I think you might actually be on to something." Carey sighed. "Cody, you know what you have to do."

"No way, mom," protested Cody. "I am _not _going to tell her. It would ruin her life. She'll hate me."

Carey put an arm around her son. "Cody, if you're right about this, then she needs to know. It's part of who she is. She'll probably be upset about it, but I don't think she'll hate you. London's smarter than she lets on. I think she'll realize you're doing this because you care about her."

Cody drew in a deep breath and let it out. "I hope you're right."

Cody rehearsed the conversation in his mind for several days. Finally, he conceded to himself that there was no easy way to tell London what he had to say. On a Sunday morning, Cody called London on the phone. After a few rings, she answered.

"What?" grumbled London groggily.

"I'm sorry to wake you up, London," apologized Cody. "But there's something I need to tell you. In person."

"Now?" croaked London.

"I'm sorry, but if I wait I might lose my nerve."

"Fine," conceded London. "Give me a half hour to get cleaned up and put my face on."

"Sure thing. I'll see you in a few."

Cody knocked on London's door forty-five minutes later. He'd long-since learned to pad London's time estimates, and it came as no surprise that she still wasn't ready. Nearly an hour after he'd called, she answered the door, clad in a house coat.

"Come in," she offered. "I ordered us some breakfast."

"That was thoughtful of you," Cody replied gratefully.

"I figured anything you'd get me out of bed for had to be pretty important," said London as she led Cody over to her breakfast nook. "So what's this about."

"It's about ASDMike1985."

London's eyes perked up. "Did you find out who he is? I'll get my lawyers on the phone right away!"

"I don't think you should do that," admonished Cody.

"Sorry, reflex," explained London. "Why not?"

Cody took a deep breath. "Because I think he's right."

"What?" exclaimed London through clenched teeth. "You think I'm a weirdo like him?"

"He's not a weirdo," defended Cody. "He has Asperger's Syndrome." Cody calmed down a bit. "And I think you do, too."

"Did you just call me an 'ass burglar?'" demanded London. "I might be stupid, but I am _not _gay!"

"No!" cried Cody. "That's what I'm trying to tell you. You're not stupid. You never were. It's just that your brain is wired differently."

"That's just another way of saying I'm stupid," argued London.

"London, if you'll just let me explain…"

"Don't bother!" said London as began to cry. "No matter what you say, I am stupid."

"Please stop saying that!" begged Cody as his own eyes began to mist up.

"You're my friend, Cody," continued London. "I think you're my best friend. I know you wouldn't call me an 'ass burglar,' and yet I automatically assumed that's what you meant."

Cody referred London to his notes. "That's called Semantic-Pragmatic Disorder, or SPD. Your brain processes unfamiliar words and usages by analyzing the words themselves, or similar-sounding words, for the most literal meaning possible."

London contemplated for a second. "I always wondered why I-90 is called _high_way if it goes through an underwater tunnel."

Cody nodded. "SPD is a very common symptom of Asperger's."

"Okay," said London. "I'm with you so far. What else?"

"Be honest with me about something," instructed Cody. "Is science really that hard for you?"

"No, it's not," admitted London. "It's just boring. What should a millionaire heiress care about protons and electrons and waves and particles?"

"You didn't seem bored the other day when we were talking about silicon dioxide," noted Cody.

London grinned. "Quartz and sand are made of the substance, but quartz is so much prettier. It's just so cool knowing why that is."

"Exactly! You know which your brain wants to go, and as much as you might see the need to, it's hard for you to steer it any other way."

London got up from her stool and hugged Cody. "Finally, someone who understands!"

Cody smiled. "You say you don't like to read, but I've seen you reading fashion magazines. Judging from what you've told me about fashion, and what I've seen of your collection, there's nothing wrong with your reading comprehension."

"Oh my gosh, you're right!" said London as she scooted her stool closer to Cody so she could look at his notes. "What else?"

"I don't mean any offense by this," said Cody. "But I've noticed some anomalies in your social interactions."

London snorted as she laughed. "That's ridiculous! I have tons of friends!"

"London, most of them hang out with you because you're rich," argued Cody.

"You say that like it's a bad thing."

"Not necessarily," replied Cody. "But think about it. How well do you really know Portia or Chelsea? What makes them tick? What do they really care about?"

"Besides being rich and fabulous?" asked London. Cody nodded in reply.

"I guess I don't really know them at all," admitted London. "Now that I think about it, you and Zack and Carey and Maddie are my only real friends."

"And why do you think that is?"

London thought about it for a moment, then began crying again. "Because you've always stuck by me no matter how hard I tried to push you away."

"That's because we all saw something in you that all the shallow, superficial people in this world didn't," explained Cody. "Everyone loved you for your money and your image, but none of that mattered to any of us."

"I never knew what to make of that," added London. "I've spent a lot of time and money cultivating my image."

"Exactly. You were brought up thinking you were better than everyone else, so it never occurred to you to think about how and why you were different."

"What else was I supposed to think?" argued London. "No matter how hard I tried, I honestly couldn't understand why people like Maddie were so happy without money. I always knew people were offended by my comments about poor people. I'm only just now starting to understand why."

"That's yet another symptom," noted Cody. "It's called Theory of Mind, because you have to formulate a theory about someone else's state of mind. Your own thought patterns are so familiar, so engrained, that it's nearly impossible for you to grasp how other people think and feel."

As the morning went on, Cody guided London through the litany of symptoms he'd observed in her. They explored everything, from her quirky, repetitive movements, to her exaggerated facial expressions, to the exaggerated affect in her voice, to her extremely lopsided set of academic skills.

London and Cody sat upon the sofa as housekeeping came in and cleaned up their breakfast. They sat in silence well beyond lunch time as London digested what Cody had revealed to her.

"So what's my next move?" asked London, finally breaking the silence.

Cody handed her a paper. "Here are some specialists, the best in Boston as near as I can tell. You really should get an evaluation. I'm not a professional, and I could be wrong about all of this."

"I'll get the evaluation," said London. "But I don't think you're wrong."

"Well, if I am right, then I suppose the next move is up to you."

"I'm going to tell all my friends…my real friends, that is. You've stood by me all these years, and you deserve to know what makes me, me."

"And your father?"

London hung her head. "I don't know if he's ready to hear about it. Cody, from what you've told me, I think he might be autistic, too."

Cody nodded. "There is some evidence to suggest it runs in families."

London scooted closer to Cody and embraced him.

"I've never had a friend like you before," said London. "I never thought anyone would care enough about me to actually figure me out."

"I'm glad I could help, and you took this a lot better than I thought you would," noted Cody. "Just remember that I'm always here for you, and you're the same London Tipton you always were."

London sighed. "And yet, everything has changed."

_A/N: This story may continue. I haven't decided yet. Feel free to comment on anything in the story, including the subject matter, but please try not to turn it into a debate over autism advocacy or theories. There are other forums much better-suited to that._


	2. Chapter 2

A/N: Okay, I decided I couldn't just overturn London's entire world without some resolution

_A/N: Okay, I decided I couldn't just overturn London's entire world without some resolution. This will take a few chapters, so hold on and enjoy the ride!_

**The Esoteric World of London Tipton**

**By**

**James Doyle**

Chapter Two

On a Monday afternoon, London sought out Moseby and found him in his office. The ever-businesslike African-American gentleman in his late thirties busied himself with some sort of paperwork. Even though London had never understood what necessitated all that paperwork, she nonetheless hesitated to disturb him.

"Yes, London, what is it?" asked Moseby, not looking up from his work.

London closed the door behind her. "Moseby, we need to talk about something personal. Very personal."

"Of course," said Moseby, moving his work aside. "What can I do for you?"

"I need you to take the day off on Wednesday. Don't worry about taking vacation time, I'll make sure you get paid. I have some tests scheduled, and I need you to come with me."

"These wouldn't be medical tests, would they?" asked Moseby.

London nodded.

Moseby put his arms around London. "I think I know what this is about."

London gasped. "You do?"

"Yes, I think I do. And I just want you to know that I'm here for you, and I'm not going to judge you, and I'll do my best to help you through it."

London beamed. "Thanks Moseby. I knew I could count on you."

"Just one thing," continued Moseby. "This may be a bit premature, but I would recommend adoption."

"Moseby," growled London.

"London, you're in no wise prepared to raise a child, and I think this is the best way to avoid negative publicity from the pro-life groups."

"_Moseby!_" shouted London. Moseby backed away with a start.

London took a few deep breaths, then continued. "I'm not pregnant."

"Are you quite sure?" whimpered Moseby.

"Last I checked, I was still a virgin," elaborated London.

"I see," said a mortified Moseby. "Please forgive me for jumping to conclusions. Might I ask what sort of medical testing will be administered?"

"Psychological testing," replied London. She carefully phrased her next statement so as not to bring Cody's name into it, lest Moseby think the whole thing was a farce. "I've been doing some research, and I think I might have Asperger's Syndrome."

"Now that you mention that," agreed Moseby. "I think you may be right. I'll explain later. In the meantime, I am at your disposal for Wednesday."

"Thanks, Moseby. I really appreciate this."

That Wednesday, both Moseby and London walked speechless toward the offices of Dr. Henry Guggenheim. The previous day, she'd asked Maddie Fitzpatrick to help her with a disguise. The dishwater blonde wig itched a bit, but she had to admit that the golf shift and cargo pants felt very comfortable.

London trembled as she approached the receptionist's window. "Dana Moseby," she said, quietly slipping an envelope containing her true identity to the receptionist.

"Yes, Miss Moseby," said the receptionist as she examined London's driver's license, then handed her a clipboard. "I just need you to fill out this paperwork and sign these consent forms. And how will you be paying today?"

"Cash," said London as she handed the receptionist a previously-counted stack of bills. She was far from ready to level with her father, and Moseby had cautioned her that having this item appear on her credit card statement might very well tip him off.

London breathed a sigh of relief as she handed in her forms. Apparently, this receptionist was accustomed to handling patients discreetly. Shortly thereafter, a nurse called her back and showed her to an uncomfortable room where an analyst sat across from her at a table.

"Good morning, London," said the young man as she closed the door. "My name's Matt, I'll be helping with your evaluation this morning."

"Do you mind if I take off this wig?" asked London.

"Feel free," answered Matt.

"I'm sure this all seems really freaky to you," commented London.

"Not at all," assured Matt. "I can't mention any names, but we've seen a number of celebrity patients. We're legally- and ethically-bound to protect your privacy. We want you to open up to us, so we can help you as best we can. Now, I think we'll start with a few verbal tests…"

After several hours of testing, the examiners released London for lunch. London requested an eatery befitting of her proletarian disguise, so Moseby took her to a nearby diner.

"I can't believe people put ketchup on their French fries," commented London.

"Ketchup isn't all that different from marinara sauce," noted Moseby, "And you seem quite found of pasta dishes."

"Yeah, I know," said London. "And I know it's all starches. But pasta doesn't feel starchy. It feels slimy. It needs something on it to be edible. Potatoes and tomatoes, on the other hand, are an unholy alliance."

"I think potatoes and frying oil are an unholy alliance," added Moseby.

The pair ate in silence for several minutes. Finally, London spoke.

"They said they want to meet with you after lunch," informed London.

"Me?" asked Moseby.

"Yeah, they want to get an outside perspective on me. Normally, they'd talk to my parents, but based on my life experiences, they decided that you know me better than anyone."

Moseby sighed as a flurry of emotions ran through his mind; the love he felt for London, the honor of being such a instrumental part of her life, the sorrow that he'd done so in lieu of her own father, and contempt for her father for all but abandoning her.

After having been thoroughly interrogated and examined, London and Moseby left the doctor's office with far more questions than answers. London cried the whole way home, unable to contain her disappointment at having to wait another week to find out who she really was.

The next week went by slowly. London tried to busy herself with her normal activities, but found that shopping held little interest for her. She even tried to busy herself with schoolwork. Once she forced herself to actually do the work, she found the tasks quite manageable.

On Friday of the following week, Cody received an e-mail from London. The recipient list also included Carey, Zack, Maddie, and Moseby. She wanted all of them to join her for dinner in her suite that evening; dress code was casual.

The Martin family knocked on London's door at the appointed time of seven o'clock. Moseby answered the door and showed them to their seats. Dinner was a fairly simple affair of roasted chicken, baked potato, and vegetable medley. Nonetheless, those assembled thoroughly enjoyed London's hospitality. London then escorted her company into the living room as room service cleared the table and set up dessert.

"You're probably wondering why you're all here," began London. "As you probably know, my family has never been much of a family. This has been a really confusing time for me, and I don't think I could've made it through without all of you. I invited you to dinner as a small token of my appreciation. I would especially like to thank Cody. Without his help, I never would've found this out about myself."

London took a few deep breaths before continuing. "All my life, I knew something was different about me. The world never made any sense to me. It was all just this big jumble of lights and sounds and smells. What made the least sense to me were people. Rich people, poor people; it didn't matter. The things they said and did just seemed so completely random.

"After awhile, I thought I didn't need to understand. I could just pay other people to do it for me. I didn't care that people only liked me for my money. I was just happy that they liked me at all. All of that changed when I met Carey, Maddie, and the twins. It was the first time in my life working people had ever made a serious attempt to be my friend.

"I want you to know that I've always appreciated your friendship, and that I've always cared about you as much as you care about me. And it tore me up inside. No matter how hard I tried, I just couldn't stop hurting the people I cared about. But you never gave up on me. Especially Cody. He was the one who figured out what I'm about to tell you.

"Last week, I went to see a specialist for an evaluation. This afternoon, they came back with a diagnosis of Asperger's Syndrome."

London looked over at Maddie, whose expression resembled that of a deer in the headlights. "Maddie," said London. "Is there something wrong?"

"That's a form of autism, isn't it?" asked Maddie.

"Yes," said London.

Maddie leapt up and threw her arms around London. "I'm sorry for every mean thing I've ever said about you."

"Of course I forgive you," replied London. "I forgive all of you, and I ask that you'd forgive me."

After the cacophony of good will and hugs had passed, the company watched a PowerPoint presentation that Cody had prepared on Asperger's Syndrome. Tears ran down Maddie's face as she watched. She felt closure to London with every slide. The presentation ended, and the company sat down to dessert.

"So this explains why you didn't want to run the vacuum," noted Carey, referring to the time London had job-shadowed the maid.

London nodded. "The noise rattles my brain. I have to go somewhere else when the maid comes in. Even if she's at the other end of the penthouse."

The company spent the rest of the evening amusing themselves by reminiscing about London's misadventures in light of her diagnosis. London discovered that, for the first time in her life, she was able to laugh at herself. As the evening wound down, one last order of business remains.

"There is an item of paramount importance that London has asked me to articulate to you," began Moseby. "London has not decided whether she wishes to go public with this information. As you know, for a person of London's fame, or infamy as the case may be, if such information is to be released to the public, it must be handled in a strategic manner. We will trust your discretion and forgo the non-disclosure agreements."

"This goes for my dad especially," added London. "I'm going to be the one to tell him, in my own time, and in my own way."

The company nodded in agreement.

"Well," said Moseby. "It's almost eleven. I suggest we retire."

"Thank you all for coming," added London. "I hope this won't be the last time."

Maddie brought up the rear as London's guests left.

"London," said Maddie, putting a hand on London's shoulder. "I don't know what kind of friend I've been to you, but I want you to know I'm always here for you. And you don't even have to pay me."

"But what if I want to pay you?" argued London.

"I wouldn't mind a nice gift every now and again, but you don't have to bribe me."

"That really means a lot to me, Maddie."

Maddie looked at her watch. "Oh snap! I'm gonna have to run, or I'll miss the last bus."

London shook her head. "A pretty girl like you shouldn't be taking the bus at this hour. I'll have my driver drop you off."

"Thanks, London," said Maddie. "For everything."

"You, too," replied London. "Good night."

"Good night."

**End of Chapter Two**


	3. Chapter 3

The Esoteric World of London Tipton

**The Esoteric World of London Tipton**

**By**

**James Doyle**

Chapter Three

"This is preposterous," cried Wilfred Tipton as he examined the report furnished by Dr. Guggenheim's office. "Utterly preposterous."

"It's not preposterous," protested London. "What does that mean?"

"You might know that if you'd actually devoted a mere half of your attention to your studies," retorted Tipton.

"I know," said London. "But that's going to change. My friend Cody is going to help me find new ways of relating to the material."

"London," said Tipton in a more subdued tone. "You don't need new ways of relating to the material. You just need to apply yourself."

"You don't get it," argued London. "I can't just do things the same way as everyone else. I'm not like them."

"Of course you're not," replied Tipton. "You're privileged. That entitles you to a modicum of eccentricity. That's certainly a more logical explanation than autism."

"Do you remember my play dates with Chelsea and Tiffany when I was a kid?" noted London. "They'd play games, but I'd go sneak off and play with their mothers' jewelry."

"I'm afraid I don't recall that," admitted Tipton. "I supposed I would've seen that if I'd ever been there."

"I think I understand now why you weren't there," said London. "I can understand why you always preferred to be around businesspeople. They're predictable. You shake hands, exchange hollow pleasantries, follow established procedures, close the deal, and go home. You can almost write a script for it."

"Hold it right there," demanded Tipton. "You can't possibly be insinuating that I'm autistic."

"I'm not insinuating anything; I'm saying it outright," replied London. "That's why you hide behind your security force. President Martinez doesn't need that kind of protection. I'm convinced the real reason is you want a barrier between you and the world. I do the same thing. We're rich, so we can pay people to do anything we don't want to do."

"I've heard enough," interrupted Tipton as he got up and walked away. As he approached the door, he stopped in his tracks and came about. He lifted the report from the coffee table and examined it once again. He hung his head in shame.

"Who am I kidding?" he asked rhetorically. "London, loathe as I am to admit it, you're right." Tipton pointed to the report. "London, this is you. And to whatever degree, this is me."

"I'm sorry I had to be so blunt about it," apologized London. "I couldn't see any other way."

Tipton sat down next to his daughter and put his arm around her. "It's quite alright. Subtlety is lost on me." He examined the report once again. "Have you told anyone besides me?"

"Only a few of my closest friends," answered London. "But I want to go public."

"London, are you sure about this?"

London nodded. "There's a lot of misinformation out there about me. I want people to know why I am the way I am. It might even help them understand other people like us."

"Have you thought about how you'd go about this?"

"I have, but I'm still not sure."

"Then might I suggest a course of action?" offered Tipton.

London nodded.

"I think you ought to endorse an autism organization," suggested Tipton. "I will make a sizeable contribution to whichever you select."

"Which one should I pick?" asked London.

"Well, I don't know," said Tipton. "I don't have much experience with humanitarian causes."

London smiled. "But I know who does."

A few days later, Maddie arrived at London's suite to present the results of her search. She sat down at London's computer and brought up a website.

"Okay," said Maddie. "I've looked into a number of different organizations, and I think Neurodiversity International is by far the best choice."

"Neurodiversity," echoed London. "What's that?"

"Neurodiversity is the idea that autistic people should be accepted and respected for who they are, and the unique contributions they can make to society," informed Maddie.

"Yay us!" exclaimed London, clapping her hands.

"If you're going to be hanging around other autists, you might want to get a handle on the clapping," admonished Maddie. "A lot of them find the sound of hand-clapping physically painful."

"Sorry," apologized London. "So what do these guys do?"

"It's an organization that provides services for autists, by autists," informed Maddie. "They have support groups, career counseling, social skills coaching, sensory integration workshops, among other things."

Maddie stood aside and let London examine the website for herself. She found herself impressed by the programs they offered in spite of being ridiculously under-funded.

"There's a national board teleconference next week," noted Maddie.

London dialed her cell phone.

"Who are you calling?" asked Maddie.

"My dad's secretary," answered Maddie. "I'd like to get on the agenda for that meeting."

"Couldn't you just send the board secretary an e-mail?"

"Do you have any idea how many people there out there pretending to be me?"

Maddie smirked. "Good point."

A week later, Cody set up London's webcasting rig. Maddie accompanied him to help provide moral support.

"Now remember," admonished Cody. "This is a teleconference, not a webcast. Board meetings of Diversity International adhere to Robert's Rules of Order, which means you don't speak until the chair recognizes you."

"How could a chair recognize me?" argued London. "It's just a piece of furniture."

Cody and London chuckled. London shot them a dirty look, and their expressions immediately became more sober.

"Sorry," apologized Cody. "The chair is the person who runs the meeting."

London smiled. "Don't worry, I've got it."

After sitting through a number of business matters that London found mind-numbingly boring, the chair recognized her.

"Thank you," said London. "In your file sharing folder, you'll find a copy of my diagnostic report. As of last week, I'm a member in good standing of the organization, and I have a few suggestions as to how I might be able to help. For starters, my father has agreed to make a sizeable annual contribution. In addition, it's my understanding that the venue schedule for our national conference is unavailable due to hurricane damage. If it pleases the board, the Boston Tipton will host the event free of charge."

"Can I have a motion to accept Miss Tipton's offer?" request the chair.

"So moved," replied one of the members.

"Seconded," added another.

"Any discussion?" asked the chair. No one spoke up. "Electronic ballot is now active. Please log in your votes."

A moment later, the results were in. "Let the record show that the board has voted unanimously to accept Miss Tipton's offer. The annual Neurodiversity International conference will take place at the Boston Tipton, date to be determined."

After the meeting, London proceeded straight away to Moseby's office.

"Good afternoon, London," greeted Moseby. "How was the meeting?"

"Great!" she exclaimed. "They accepted our offer to have their conference at the Tipton."

"Splendid," replied Moseby. "I'll be in touch with the committee to establish a date. Is there anything else?"

"As a matter of fact, there is," continued London. "They've also asked me to be their celebrity spokesperson. They can't afford to pay me anything, which is fine. I already have enough money. We'll be making the announcement at the conference."

"Wonderful," exclaimed Moseby. "London, I must say, I'm very impressed that you're seeing this as an opportunity to benefit others."

London smiled. "I learned from some very good friends of mine."

London sat down again just as she was about to take her leave. "Just one more thing."

"Yes, London?"

"You didn't seem at all surprised when said I thought I was autistic. You knew all along, didn't you?"

Moseby sighed. "I had my suspicions, but I didn't feel it was my place to tell you."

"Do you know someone with Aspergers?"

Moseby nodded. "An employee. He's always done fine work in spite of his more troublesome quirks."

"I'd like to meet him," requested London.

"I'll pass your request along to him," offered Moseby. "Meet me here in two hours."

London met with Moseby in his office at the appointed time.

"Come in," said Moseby, answering the knock at his door.

"London, what are you doing here?" asked Arwin Hawkhauser. "Mr. Moseby said he was going to introduce me to someone with Aspergers Syndrome."

"Yes," said London. "That would be me."

"Oh my gosh!" exclaimed Arwin. "I never knew."

"Neither did I."

**End of Chapter Three**

_A/N: I'm cramming for an exam, so the next chapter might not appear for a few days, but rest assured, it's coming!_


	4. Chapter 4

**The Esoteric World of London Tipton**

**By**

**James Doyle**

Chapter Four

"And…checkmate," Arwin calmly announced as he made his final move.

"That's five out of nine games," observed London. "I think I'll quit while I'm only slightly behind."

"I must say," observed Arwin, "You're not a sore loser."

"Are you kidding?" replied London. "I'm glad to finally play somebody who can give me a real challenge. Maddie, Moseby, and Cody are all pretty good, but they're no match for me at all. I mop the board with them every time. It gets old after awhile."

"Believe me, I know the feeling," sympathized Arwin.

London hung her head. "I'm sorry, Arwin," apologized London.

"Sorry for what?" asked Arwin.

"Sorry for not believing in you. I always used to wonder why Moseby didn't fire you. But it's pretty obvious that you've done a lot of things to make this hotel better. Even if some of them didn't work quite the way you imagined."

"I'm sorry, too. I agreed with all those people who thought you were stupid. I, of all people, should've known better."

London offered a hand. "Friends?"

Arwin shook her hand. "Friends."

London then took a moment to examine her hand.

"There's hand sanitizer on my desk," offered Arwin.

"Thanks, I appreciate it," said London.

London proceeded back to her suite, where she found Cody and Moseby waiting inside. A few moments later, her guest arrived.

"Hi, I'm Dr. Michael Puliatti," said the somewhat awkward young man, shaking each of their hands in turn. London showed him to his seat, and her steward served them tea.

"I must say," observed Puliatti, "I've never had anyone as famous as London Tipton interested in my program."

"Yes, just what is it you're offering?" asked Moseby.

"Ah, straight to business. Persons with ASD are often discouraged from pursuing their special interests in the interest of trying to make pre-fabricated, mass-produced educational methods work for them. Many times, autists learn to suppress their individuality, and the unique contributions they stood to make to society are lost. In many other cases, it simply doesn't work.

"As I was doing doctoral work in Special Education, I observed that nearly every hobby or interest can be related to any number of academic subjects. My staff will spend a week testing and interviewing London to determine her interests. We'll then spend another two weeks developing a customized home-school program tailored to her special interests."

"I see," acknowledged Moseby. "And where does Cody fit into all of this?"

"A staff member will visit once a week to evaluate London's progress. However, this is largely a self-guided program. I designed it to be taken alongside a sibling. Since London is an only child, Mr. Martin has volunteered to participate in the program with her. I've already received a signed consent form from his mother."

London and Cody excused themselves to the balcony while Puliatti and Moseby discussed some of the more technical aspects of the program.

"I really hope Moseby agrees to this," worried London.

"I don't see as why he wouldn't," assured Cody.

"I don't know. He might see it as a little…what's the word?"

"Unconventional?"

"Yeah, that's it."

"It is, but so are you. I think Mr. Moseby sees that now."

"I hope you're right."

A few moments later, Moseby called the two of them back in.

"I must say," noted Moseby, "I'm quite impressed with Dr. Puliatti's program. Only one question remains for me." Moseby turned to face London. "London, are you sure this is what you want to do?"

London nodded. "I think this might actually work for me. I'd really like to give it a try."

"Very well," agreed Moseby, who immediately signed the consent form. "Consider it a done deal."

Puliatti shook his head. "Excellent. It was a pleasure meeting all of you. My office will call within the next day or so to schedule an appointment."

"Cody, a moment please," requested Moseby after Puliatti had left and he was just about to leave.

"Yes, Mr. Moseby?"

"As long as you and your brother have lived in my hotel, you've been a thorn in my flesh," reminded Moseby.

"Look, Mr. Moseby…" Cody began to defend.

"I'm not finished," interrupted Moseby. "In spite of all that, you've helped London to realize her potential in ways none of us ever imagined. I've never been more proud of you as I am right now."

"Thanks, Mr. Moseby," said Cody, shaking Moseby's hand. "That means a lot to me."

Two weeks later, Cody and London had been poked, prodded, and interrogated every way they could possibly think of, and were excited to finally review their home-school materials.

"This is awesome," approved Cody as he and London flipped through the freshly-bound books. "Chemistry, Physics, Math."

"Art appreciation," added London. "I had no idea my favorite designers had all these influences. This is going to be the most fun I've ever had going to school!"

"I'm glad you like it."

London smiled warmly. "And I'm glad you helped me find it."

With that, she embraced Cody in a hug.

"I've noticed you've been giving me a lot of hugs lately," observed Cody.

"I've discovered recently that I like to be held," explained London. "I don't know why, but it helps my brain collect itself."

"Well, in that case…" said Cody as he drew London in for another hug.

"Mmm, tighter," requested London. Cody began putting his shoulder muscles into the embrace. It was then that Cody realized he'd never been this close to a woman, emotionally or physically. This realization caused a certain part of his anatomy to react in a predictable way, but in a way he wasn't sure was appropriate. He backed off lest London notice.

"I promised mom I'd cook dinner tonight," announced Cody. "You can come join us, if you want."

"I'd love to," apologized London, "But I promised Maddie I'd take her out tonight."

"Another time, maybe," suggested Cody.

"Definitely!" agreed London.

As Cody entered his suite, Zack looked up from his video game to notice the mixture of joy, sorrow, and confusion in his brother's eyes.

"What's eating you?" he asked.

"I think I'm in love with London Tipton," revealed Cody.

Zack laughed.

"What's so funny?" demanded Cody.

"About time you admitted it."

**End of Chapter Four**

_Well, my few days turned out to be over a year, but I finally regained the inspiration for it. It's been jossed six ways from Sunday by _Suite Life on Deck_, but I don't care._

_I have no idea if such a home-school program actually exists._

_I've implied very heavily that London is a deep-pressure seeker. Not all autists are. Some hate it, in fact._

_Updates will be more frequent from now on. Stay tuned!_


	5. Chapter 5

**The Esoteric World of London Tipton**

**By**

**James Doyle**

Chapter Five

One month had passed since Cody and London had begun their homeschool program, and they prepared for a presentation with a Puliatti Institute evaluator. They had prepared a small exhibit on mineralogy that included sections on chemistry, physics, mathematics, geography, and art appreciation.

"London, are you okay?" asked Cody, observing that London seemed a good deal less chatty than usual.

"Cody, I'm so nervous," replied London.

"Nothing to be nervous about," assured Maddie, who had come along for moral support. "You're great at public speaking."

"I'm good at talking to a faceless audience that isn't really listening to me," argued London. "I'm not used to my work being subject to scru...Cody, what's that word, again?"

"Scrutiny," supplied Cody. He didn't mind helping her with words, now that she was actually trying to expand her vocabulary. He'd been quite impressed with her progress, in fact.

"Just remember, this is a team effort," reminded Cody. "If you get stuck, I'll elaborate, and steer the discussion back to where you an pick it up again."

"I don't know what I'd do without you," said London, who then started to jitter.

Knowing the drill, Cody and Maddie both put their arms around her, pulling one another toward her as tightly as they could manage. After a minute or two in the human vise, London felt much better.

"Delivery was a little choppy," said the evaluator. "But I'm not here to evaluate you on that. Seeing your presentation, and looking over your notes, I can see that you've made excellent progress in your mastery of the underlying concepts. You both get an A."

"Yay us!" exclaimed London, holding her hands in the air and flapping her fingers toward her palm, a technique which she'd learned many autists preferred as an alternative to clapping. The evaluator shook their hands and took his leave.

"See, I told you could do it," congratulated Maddie.

"I'm just glad it's over," said London. "I don't care how they're done. I still don't like tests."

"Well, I took my lunch break early so I could be here, and it's just about over," announced Maddie. "I'll see you guys later."

London and Maddie exchanged a hug as she left.

"So, how about we discuss topics for the next _Yay Me_," suggested Cody.

"Yeah, about that," said London. "I think the show's concept needs a serious overhaul."

"Overhaul? What do you mean?"

"I'm still thinking about how I'm going to go public," elaborated London. "One thing is for sure, though: It's going to completely change my image. I've been reading some of the blogs and message boards, and a problem a lot of autistic people have is once they tell people about it, it's the only thing people want to talk about, like that's all there is to them or something. If my show is only about me, like it's always been, then it'll end up being a show about autism. And you and I both know there's more to me than just that. It's definitely not the only thing I'm interested in."

"I see," said Cody. "Well, I don't think a show about you is necessarily a bad thing. I mean, you're one of the most interesting people I've ever met. And I think a lot of people out there agree. So maybe the show could still be about you, but could also use it to draw attention to your special interests."

"Well, at the very least, the show's going to need a new title."

"Let me think on that one, and I'll get back to you," offered Cody.

"I know I haven't said this nearly enough, but you're the best, Cody," praised London, drawing him in for a hug. It was then that Cody noticed something different about her: She'd stopped wearing perfume. For the first time since he'd known her, he smelled the real London Tipton. He found her aroma quite pleasing.

"Any luck, bro?" asked Zack as Cody returned to the suite.

"No dice," sighed Cody. "She hugs me all the time and tells me how much she appreciates me, but that just means she's a good friend. I've tried dropping hints, but she doesn't seem to be taking the bait."

"No offense to London, Cody," argued Zack, "But subtlety has always been lost on her. Maybe she just doesn't know you're into her."

"Oh, please," retorted Cody. "I get a hard-on every time I hug her."

"That just means you're hot for her," rebutted Zack. "You and every other guy in America and a lot of the women. London doesn't read people. You have to tell her straight up that you care about her and you want to take your relationship to the next level."

"Who are you and what have you done with my brother?" reacted Cody.

"Hey, I've seen the way London's changed over the past few months. She hasn't shown any interest at all in the pretty-boys she usually goes out with. I think your goodie-two-shoes shtick might just pay off in this case."

"So where do I start?"

"Duh! Ask her out on a date!"

Cody smiled. "I have just the thing. Thanks, Zack."

"Don't worry about it; You'll be getting my bill."

Cody walked out into the hallway for a bit of privacy, then dialed London.

"Hey Cody," London greeted enthusiastically. "What's up?"

"I wanted to talk to you about that literature unit," began Cody.

"Ugh," reviled London. "Not looking forward to that at all. I guess you can't enjoy everything you learn."

"To tell you the truth, I wasn't crazy about _Hamlet _when I read it, either," admitted Cody. "Plays are meant to be watched. There's a local production of _Hamlet _on Friday night. I thought perhaps you'd like to go with me. My treat."

"I'd love to, Cody," replied London. "But you don't have to pay."

"No, I'd really like to," insisted Cody.

"Okay," capitulated London. "But only if you let me buy you dinner."

"Deal," agreed Cody. "I'll swing by your suite around six."

"Sounds good," said London. "It's a date."

"Yeah, it's a date."

Just after Cody hung up the phone, he thought to himself, _It's a date!_

"It's a date," he said to himself. "It's a _date!_"

Cody contemplated it for another moment before bursting out into song.

"It's a date, it's a date, it's a date date date, it's a date, it's a date, it's a date date date..." he sang to the tune of _The William Tell Overture _as he danced back into the suite. He'd been singing and dancing for a minute or so when Carey came in the door.

"What's got you so giddy?" asked Carey.

"It's date, it's a date, it's a date date date..." continued Cody as he took his mother by the hand and danced her around the room.

"Whoa, slow down there, Fred Astaire!" interrupted Carey. "You have a date with who?"

Cody cleared his throat.

"My bad," corrected Carey. "You have a date with _whom?_"

"Actually, it's 'With whom do you have a date?' But I'll let that slide, because I have a date with London Tipton!"

"Are you sure that's such a good idea?" cautioned Carey.

"Mom, I know she's three years older than me..."

"That's not what I'm concerned about," continued Carey. "Though it's certainly something to consider. Cody, are you sure pursuing a relationship with London is the right thing? She's gone through a lot of changes in her life. She's probably feeling pretty vulnerable right now."

"I'm not trying to take advantage of her, mom," assured Cody. "I've really gotten to know London these last couple of months. I never realized how thoughtful, kind, caring, and smart she could be. I'm doing this homeschool program for her as much as me. It makes me want to do even better. And that makes her want to do even better. Being around her makes me happy. And I know that having me around makes her happy. Mom, it makes me happy to make her happy. London and I are a team. It only makes sense that we should be there for each other in every way possible."

"Well, you're intentions are certainly honorable," admitted Carey. "All right, I'm willing to let you give it a shot."

"Thanks mom," said Cody, throwing his arms around his mother.

The restaurant to which London took Cody wasn't nearly as upscale as those in which London usually dined, but being a place that required reservations, was still a bit out of Cody's league. Nonetheless, his table manners were impeccable, and she had to admit, he looked quite elegant in the coat and tie that Carey had helped him pick out.

"How's the food?" asked London.

"Quite tasty," noted Cody. "Though the hollandaise sauce is a little heavy on the cayenne pepper."

London laughed. "Honestly, I've always liked your cooking better than anything I've had eating out."

"Well, thank you," replied Cody. "Though I'll ask you to reserve judgment until we've sampled the crème brulée."

Cody had arranged for he and London to be let in through a side entrance so as not to attract too much attention. The head covering and scarf she'd chosen for the evening altered her appearance so that when she sat amongst the middle-class folks who sat in the section within Cody's price range, some may have suspected her of being London Tipton, but none saw fit to press the issue. Thus, she felt free to take in the play.

In the fourth scene of the third act, she found the actor's portrayal of the ghost of King Hamlet to be quite haunting. Indeed, she hadn't realized that live theater could affect her on such a level. She found herself leaning into Cody, and taking hold of his hand. There, she found the comfort she sought, a level of comfort she realized she'd never felt before in a boy's touch. She felt content to leave her hand in Cody's. She decided that she'd read the play after all, just so she could enjoy this distraction.

In the limo ride home, London and Cody both felt a certain uncertainty as to how to proceed. Finally, London broke the ice.

"Is it just me, or did Hamlet kind of have thing for his mom?" asked London.

"A number of commentators have made that observation," answered Cody. "It's a concept known as the 'Oedipal Complex,' first proposed by Sigmund Freud..."

"Cody," interrupted London.

"Right, my bad," apologized Cody. "We can talk about that in school on Monday."

"Good call," approved London.

The rest of the ride was quiet, though Cody found the courage at one point to put him arm around London. When they arrived back at London's suite, she invited him to come inside. For a moment, Cody got the sneaking suspicion that things were moving too fast.

"Cody, we need to talk," said London as she showed him to the sofa.

"Okay," replied Cody, quite certain at this point that he'd blown it with London.

"Cody, something happened tonight, and I want to be sure what it is," continued London. "I think we had a date, and I think there were sparks between us. I'm just not quite sure because...well..."

"Because I wasn't trying to get into your pants?" supplied Cody.

"Frankly, yes," confirmed London. "I mean, I'm still a virgin, but the attempt was always what told me a guy was interested."

Cody took London's hand in his. "London, you mean so much more to me that that. You're my best friend, you're my partner in all my academic pursuits, you're what motivates me to be better at everything I do. And I would like that to include being much more than friends with you. I won't deny that you turn me on. But you also light up my life with your strength, your courage, your kindness, your love of life. London, I'm in love with you."

London gasped a few times, then began to cry.

"I'm so sorry," apologized Cody, putting his arms around her. "I never meant to hurt you."

"No," sobbed London onto Cody's shoulder. "I'm just overwhelmed with happiness to hear you say that. Cody, I'm in love with you, too."

Cody backed off slightly, then wiped the tears away from London's cheek.

"My mascara is probably running all over the place," noted London.

"It is," confirmed Cody. "But you've never looked more beautiful."

The two friends slowly brought their faces close together, and became a couple as their lips touched. Hungry for his caress, London opened her mouth for Cody. He'd never kissed a girl in this manner before, so he let her take the lead. Neither wanted this moment to end, but both realized that things could easily go too far too fast. Reluctantly, their lips parted.

"So what should we do tomorrow?" asked London with a hint of a chuckle.

"Let's play that by ear," suggested Cody.

"Sounds good," agreed London.

Cody led London by the hand to the door. They exchanged a brief kiss before parting for the evening.

"Good night, my love," said Cody.

"You'll be in my dreams," replied London.

London smiled and watched as Cody made his way toward the elevator. When he'd left, she returned to her suite, shutting the door behind her. She pressed her back to the door, and sighed as she slid down until she was sitting on the floor.

_This new life is the best thing that ever happened to me_.

**End of Chapter Five**

_Stay tuned for the star-studded conclusion!_


	6. Final Chapter

**The Esoteric World of London Tipton**

**By**

**James Doyle**

Final Chapter

Life became more and more hectic around the Tipton as the day approached for the twelfth annual Neurodiversity International conference. With a good deal of assistance from the Tipton family, it was shaping up to be the largest conference NI had ever held, as well as one of the largest the Tipton had ever hosted.

"Moseby," said London as she flagged him down during the hustle and bustle of initial setup.

"What is it London?" asked Moseby. "As you can see, I'm a very busy man."

"They're setting up metal detectors and x-ray machines!" protested London. "That's going to be a nightmare for some of our autistic guests."

"It's only for the keynote sessions," assured Moseby. "Your father insisted."

London sighed. "I wish he weren't so paranoid."

Moseby took London's hand in his. "Now, London. Your father has done a great deal as of late to accommodate your special needs. It would behoove you to extend him the same courtesy."

London nodded. "You're right, Moseby. Could you at least tell them to turn the sound off? Those beeps are going to drive people nuts."

Moseby smiled. "I'll see what I can do."

Meanwhile, Maddie found Zack sitting in one of the meeting rooms, sipping a bottle of water.

"Laying down the job, are we?" teased Maddie.

"Just taking a breather," explained Zack. "I spent most of the morning coordinating the catering with Patrick. Chef Paolo has a whole new menu of gluten-free foods, casein-free foods, and Feingold-friendly foods. I have no idea what all that means, other than our some of our guests will actually be able to eat it."

"I'm impressed with how helpful you've been," complimented Maddie.

"I'm just doing my brother a solid," explained Zack. "He doesn't want London to be under any undue stress. Unfortunately, that means he and Moseby have been nit-picking every detail."

Maddie laughed. "Yeah, they do tend to micromanage, don't they?"

"Yeah. Well, I'd better get back to work. These projectors don't wire themselves up."

"Yeah, and I'm working an extra shift at the check-in desk," noted Maddie. "People are starting to come in in droves."

Eventually, the conference shaped up, and people packing into the grand ballroom for the keynote session.

"Oh my gosh!" chattered London. "I didn't know it would be this many people."

Cody kept an arm around his girlfriend. "Don't worry. You'll do fine. Are you sure don't want a teleprompter?"

London shook her head. "I want this to be as sincere and heartfelt as possible."

"Am I interrupting anything?" interjected Wilfred Tipton.

"Daddy!" exclaimed London as she jumped up and hugged her father. "I'm so glad you could be here."

"I wouldn't miss it for the world," he said, then turned his attention to Cody extending his hand. "I don't believe we've been formally introduced. I'm Wilfred Tipton."

Cody shook his hand. "It's good to finally meet you in the flesh, Mr. Tipton."

"Normally I wouldn't approve of my daughter dating a young man your age, but considering how much of an encouragement you've been to one another, I just couldn't say no."

"Thank you, sir. London's very special."

"That she is. I'm glad you see it."

"It's almost time," interjected Zack, looking very important with his headset and clipboard.

Moseby took the stage, greeted with the traditional silent applause of the autistic community.

"Good morning, ladies and gentlemen," greeted Moseby. "I'm Marion Moseby, the general manager of this establishment. On behalf of our hosts, I would like to welcome you to the Tipton. If there's anything we can do to make your stay more comfortable, please let us know. And now, please allow me to introduce the president of Neurodiversity International, Mr. Greg Dooley."

"Thank you, Mr. Moseby," said Dooley. "I'd first of all like to thank the Tipton family and Tipton Industries, as well as the staff of the Tipton hotel for giving us such a warm welcome. This is the largest conference we've ever conducted, and without their generosity, it wouldn't have been possible.

"I'll try and keep my remarks short this morning. As always, I'll begin by asking the question, 'What is neurodiversity?' I could quote a dictionary definition, but instead, let me say what it means to us at Neurodiversity International. To us, neurodiversity is a celebration both of autists and neurotypicals, all of whom come in many different shapes, sizes, and colors, with many different personalities. Neurodiversity means abandoning the idea that we ought not to try and compel persons of other neurological configurations to be more like us, but that instead, we ought all use our unique gifts and abilities to build up one another and our community."

"Now, I've spent enough time on my soapbox," commented Dooley, pausing for laughter. "I'd now like to introduce our keynote speaker. I'm sure you're all very anxious to find out who that is. It's not ordinarily our practice to withhold the announcement of our speaker until the actual keynote session, but I think you'll agree that this is no ordinary keynote speaker. It is my privilege to present to you our first-ever celebrity spokeswoman. Ladies and gentlemen, please welcome Miss London Tipton."

The audience stood silent as London Tipton took the podium.

"Thank you, Greg," said London as she began. "I won't be so rude as to assume that all of you know who I am, so allow me to offer a brief introduction. My name's London Tipton, and I was born in 1990, right here in Boston. I'm the heiress to Tipton Industries and the Tipton family fortune.

"But over these past few months, none of that has been important. The most significant event in my life so far occurred three months ago, when a very good friend of mine chose to see past my obnoxious, flighty public persona, and made the effort to really get to know me. He investigated a comment made by one of the viewers of my web-show, and set in motion a chain of events that led to my being diagnosed with Aspergers Syndrome.

"Now, people have been trying to figure me out for years, so I wasn't prepared to accept a label of something I'd never even heard of. But he was so kind, and understanding, and supportive of me, that it didn't take long to break down my defenses. I soon realized that he was right, and that my old excuse of being an eccentric rich girl didn't do justice to who I really am.

"After that, everything changed. With the help of my friends, I found new ways of learning, and new ways of adapting to to my environment. I finally understood things that eluded me for most of my life. Most of all, I finally understood how valuable the people in my life were. I'd like to name a few of those people, who are seated behind me. Please stand up as call your name.

"First of all, my father, Wilfred Tipton. While he wasn't the most visible of fathers, he always made sure I had what I needed. He also stood by my side in this turbulent time in my life."

"Second, is Marion Moseby. In his own way, he's also been a father to me. He's always been here for me, and done his best to keep me on the straight and narrow path. I haven't always treated him with the respect he deserves.

"Next is Maddie Fitzpatrick, my friend from another world. I never understood why she was so happy in a lifestyle so vastly different from mine, and I often made fun of her for it. Despite that, she always stood by me.

"Next is Arwin Hawkhauser. For most of my life, I thought of him merely as an employee. But recently, I've come to realize that he's a kindred spirit, and I'm proud to call him my friend.

"Next is Carey Martin, the mother I never had. At times when I was alone and in need, she always opened her home and her hear to me.

"Next is Zack Martin. Always willing to participate in crazy schemes with me, he's the closest thing I'll ever have to a brother. He's also responsible for a good bit of what you see here.

"Before I continue, let me just say that I love all of you, and I thank you for being such an invaluable part of my life.

"Finally, the friend I told you about earlier deserves special mention. For as long as I've known him, I'm always counted him among my friends. But things started changing one morning when he came to my suite to help me with a computer problem. Once he'd fixed it, he asked me if I'd tried to search for myself on the web, a fair assumption, considering how I was always looking for ways to promote myself. Well, out of vanity, I decided that, for some reason I myself can't fathom, I didn't have enough exposure. So he helped me set up the web-show many of you know as _Yay Me!_

"At first, I was enamored with the show and having yet another means of promoting myself. But as time went on, I looked forward to production meetings as an excuse to see more of him. No matter how stupid or insane the things I wanted to do on my show were, he always did his best to make it happen. More than that, he listened to what I had to say, whether or not it had anything to do with the show. He must have seen something in me that I didn't see in myself, because I couldn't conceive of why he'd give so much of his time and energy, and at times endured outright humiliation, to help me achieve my personal goals.

"But he didn't stop there. In the time he spent with me, he pieced together a clearer picture of who I really am that anyone else had ever seen. He did the research, and gave me the facts I needed to find out who I really am and make the changes I needed to make. When I started homeschooling with the Puliatti Institute, he gave up a place of honor and prestige at his school to come alongside me and provide the support I needed.

"Perhaps the biggest thing that changed through my relationship with him was how I thought about love. Being where I am in society, I always thought I'd marry someone with money and status. Dating was largely a recreational activity for me, so I dated boys who were rich, or good-looking, or amused me in some way. Some of them I really liked, but deep down, I knew it wouldn't last.

"Now, don't get me wrong, I always thought my best friend was cute and charming in his own way, but up until this time, I never thought he was my type. But with each passing day since my diagnosis, we became more and more inseparable. For the first time in my life, I saw a guy I could picture myself spending the rest of my life with. When he finally summoned up the courage to ask me out, I could hardly turn him down. When we admitted our feelings for one another, it felt like I'd finally found a part of me that had been missing my whole life."

London took the microphone from the podium and walked over to Cody. She took him by the hand as he stood up.

"Cody Martin," continued London. "I love you, and though the odds are against us at our age, it's my hope that we'll always be together."

The audience gave their silent applause as London thanked Cody with a quick kiss and a hug.

Cody arrived late for lunch, and was delighted to find that London had already made some new friends.

"Sorry I'm late," apologized Cody. "My session ran overtime."

"What session was that?" asked one of them.

"'For Spouses Only,'" answered London. "Even though they call it that, it's for all significant others."

"How was working the Puliatti Institute booth?" asked Cody.

"Actually, not bad," admitted London. "I managed to generate a lot of interest in the program. Anyway, I'd like you to meet some new friends of mine."

Cody went around the table shaking hands as London introduced them.

"This is Dr. Donald Mallard, a medical examiner for NCIS," introduced London. "I forget what that stands for."

"Naval Criminal Investigative Service," supplied Cody.

"Very good, young man," praised Dr. Mallard. "And please, call me Ducky."

"This is Dr. Gil Grissom, recently retired from the Las Vegas Crime Lab. Steve Urkel, astronaut and physicist. Freddie Benson, who produces our rival web-show _iCarly_. Jack McCoy, District Attorney for New York County. Dwight Schrute and his boss Michael Scott from Dunder Mifflin Paper Company. And last, but not least, Jaye Tyler. She's..."

"A retail clerk from Niagara Falls," supplied Jaye. "It's okay, I'm not ashamed."

"It's a pleasure meeting all of you," said Cody, sincerely.

"The pleasure all ours," replied Ducky. "Only a young man such as yourself could inspire London to become the young lady she is today. Tell me, what sort of vocation do you intend to pursue?"

"Actually, all of you are in career fields I've considered. Forensics, law, aeronautics, producing, and business. There's just so much out there."

"Well, from what London has told me, I'm sure you'll excel at whatever you put your mind to."

"I appreciate that. Honestly, I've mostly been focused on helping London achieve her goals."

"Yeah, about that," interjected Freddie. "London's spent so much time talking about you that she hasn't told us what she wants to do."

"Well," pondered London. "I never thought I'd say this, but I think I want to be a mineralogist."

"Ah, quite the noble pursuit," approved Ducky. "There was this one fellow met some years ago in the Caucasus..."

With that, the group settled in for one of Ducky's interesting stories.

London and Cody both met a number of interesting people at the conference. Working the Puliatti Institute booth once again on the last day, Cody and London received a few notable visitors. The first arrived shortly after lunch.

"London Tipton?" asked a tall, slender young man with dark brown hair in a pair of khakis and a golf shirt.

"Yes, that's me," replied London. "What can I do for you?"

"My name's Mike DeMarco," introduced the young man as he shook both of their hands. "You might know me as ASDMike1985."

"Oh my gosh!" exclaimed London. "It's great to meet you finally."

"Yeah, you too. Love the hotel, by the way."

"Thanks," said London. "I'm glad we could have you here. You know, it was your comment that started all of this."

"I make comments like that all the time," noted Mike. "I had no idea you'd take me seriously."

"Well, I'm glad I did," said London. "Or rather, I'm glad that Cody did."

"You guys look really happy together," commented Mike. London could sense the young man was a little envious.

"Don't worry, I'm sure there's somebody out there for you," assured London.

"Thanks, I appreciate that," thanked Mike. "It'd sound trite coming from anybody but you."

Just as Cody and London were about to help break down the booth, two final visitors appeared.

"London?" greeted a familiar voice from behind.

"Chelsea?" replied London as she turned to face them. "And Tiffany! Gosh, it's great to see you guys, though I never thought I'd see you dressed like that," she added, noting their "Neurodiversity" t-shirts.

"Well, we figured if you could show a little humility for something like this, we could do the same," said Tiffany. "After all, a little bird told us we should be here to support you."

London smiled at Cody, knowing full well that Tiffany was referring to him.

"He also invited Portia," added Chelsea, "But she said..."

"You know what," interrupted London. "I really don't care what she thinks anymore."

"Good for you," approved Tiffany. "Anyway, we just wanted you to know that we're here for you, and though I never would've pictured you with Cody, you two are really good together."

"We are, aren't we?" said London to Cody. "And thanks guys. I really appreciate it."

An exchange of hugs ensued before Chelsea and Tiffany took their leave.

"Miss Tipton? Mr. Martin?" someone called out as they began to break down the booth. "Oh, thank goodness I caught you."

"What can we do for you?" asked Cody.

"I'm Arny Franks, director of programming for Back Bay Communications. We own and operate the cable network InspireTV. Mr. Martin had posted some comments on your website regarding your revamped show concept. The network loves it! I'm prepared to offer you a contract to air your show."

"It's certainly tempting," said London. "But I'm not sure I want to do the show if Cody's not involved."

"I thought you might say that," replied Franks. "That's why I'm prepared to offer Mr. Martin an attractive internship. He'll be working with the production staff, and you and he will retrain creative control."

"I'd like to have my lawyers look this over," said London. "But assuming everything checks out, you have yourself a deal."

"Spectacular," said Franks as he shook their hands. "We'll be in touch."

Later that evening, the conference had packed up and left, and the Tipton janitorial staff set about restoring the ballrooms and meeting rooms to their normal state. Cody and London retired to London's suite.

"I'm exhausted," sighed London.

"Me too," agreed Cody. "But you have to admit, that was a lot of fun."

"It was, wasn't it?"

Cody took London's hands in his. "What you said the other day, about wanting us to always be together. It meant a lot to me. Though I think putting a ring on your finger would be a little premature, I don't ever want to be with anyone else."

"I don't either," confessed London. "I love you, Cody."

"And I love you, London."

A few months later, make up artists did their work on Cody and London, preparing them for the premiere of their new show.

"Are you nervous?" asked Cody.

"Not really," replied London. "I'm used to talking to a camera. Besides, our segment producers do all the real work."

"Yeah," agreed Cody. "Who'd have thought major cable network would be interested in a show about autistic people and their special interests?"

"Hey, after these past few months, nothing surprises me anymore," noted London.

Cody laughed. "Very true."

"In five, four, three...." said the segment director, silently signaling the last two counts. The theme music played, and Cody began his opening monologue.

"Good evening. You're about to enter a new world. A world full of fascinating people, with a limitless range of fascinating interests. Welcome, my friends, to the Esoteric World of London Tipton."

**The End**

_This has been really fun to write. I hope you enjoyed it._

_No, ASDMike1985 is not an author avatar. He's kind of an amalgamation of autistic people I know._

_Feel free to mention the name of a fictional character you think would attend the conference in your reviews!_


End file.
